-A/N: Happy Birthday to me!
I just wanted to self indulge a little for my birthday 😊
My Whitebeard x OC fanart found here
The Moby Dick had never been quieter. Not because the crew was asleep, far from it. The entire ship buzzed with poorly hidden excitement.
“Keep it down, idiots,” Marco hissed as he put more gifts on the table, “If Ma wakes up before we’re ready, Pops is gonna throw every one of us overboard”.
“She’s going to love it either way, don't fuss so much”, Ace insisted as he hung the banner.
“I wrapped mine special!”, Jozu said proudly as he held up a lumpy package with strings tied around it.
“That’s meat twine…”, Marco told him.
“I think it adds charm”, Jozu shrugged.
Thatch came from the kitchen carrying trays of food. The whole deck was slowly turning into chaos as the men tried to finish preparing for the surprise.
“Please at least try and act civilized today”, Izou said while adjusting one of the flower arrangements with care.
Ace nearly dropped a tray of pastries, but quickly caught it with a nervous laugh.
“Too late for that”, Marco joked.
From inside the captain’s quarters came the unmistakable rumble of laughter that was their captain.
You were having trouble waking up after enjoying a lazy morning, but could not ignore the sounds from above any longer. Whitebeard sat on the edge of the bed while you sat bundled in blankets beside him. He rested one of his huge hands against the small of your back.
“Why does the ship sound like it’s sinking?”, you mumbled, wondering what all the noise was.
“The boys are up to somethin”, he said with a grin, “best not ask questions”.
You rolled your eyes fondly then leaned against him and his warm embrace.
“I guess we better go make sure they don’t burn down my kitchen”, you joked as you got up to get dressed.
Whitebeard watched with the same affectionate grin he always had. It was quiet moments like this that you loved the most. He let out a low laugh when something loudly crashed above. You then heard Marco yell at someone.
The noise suddenly went dead quiet and for a moment that somehow felt more suspicious. He followed you as you made your way up the stairs. The moment you stepped onto the main deck, the entire crew erupted.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MA!”
You jumped in surprise, both hands flying to your mouth. Confetti exploded, music bursted from somewhere by the mast, and you noticed The Moby Dick was heavily decorated.
The deck had been transformed overnight. Colorful banners and streamers hung between the sails. Fresh flowers decorated the railings and tables. There were hand painted signs with crooked letters and even a centerpiece made out of fruit.
And standing in the middle of it all was your family. Every single member of the crew stood grinning at you like excited children.
“Oh boys…”, you laughed softly, tearing up.
“For the greatest Ma on the seas!”, they all said in unison.
Whitebeard stood just behind you with his arms crossed with a smug grin. He looked proud of his boys. They had really pulled it together.
The day became one long celebration, passing in a blur of chaos and affection. The crew spoiled you with gifts. Vista gave you a comb carved from polished wood, Izou gave you fabrics from Wano, Marco gave you a jewelry box of your favorite color, Ace gave you a warm shawl from an island he visited recently. The other crew members gave you gifts such as, small jewelry, rare tea blends, new books, and handmade trinkets.
You hugged every single of your boys and held back tears at how loved you felt. You celebrated the rest of your surprise birthday party by enjoying the many varieties of foods and singing loudly with your family. A few sons grabbed you into a dance while some played music.
Whitebeard spent most of the day watching you. He watched the way you smiled at every gift, no matter how small. He watched you mock scold Ace for climbing the mast while holding a plate of cake. He watched you chat with Izou while the other men partied. He watched Marco put a cape over your shoulders when the sea breeze picked up. He watched his sons orbit around you naturally, like they were drawn to your warmth. The ship had always been his family, but you made it feel like a home.
As evening settled across the ocean, the sun dipped low and the celebrations finally calmed down.
Whitebeard looked over at Ace and gave a hand signal. The ship was quickly docked at an island that was nearby. He stood from his chair and guided you to the edge.
“C’mon”, he said softly.
“Where are we going?”, you asked?.
“You’ll see”, he smiled down at you.
He helped you off the ship onto the small quiet island. It seemed untouched except for the tall grass and old stone paths. He carried a large bag and guided you through trees, down an overgrown trail, eventually reaching a small clearing at the edge of a cliff overlooking the ocean.
The sunset stretched endlessly across the horizon in shades of gold, pink, purple, and orange. The waves shimmered below you. And for a moment, both of you simply stared.
“It’s beautiful”, you whispered.
“Thought you might like it”, your pirate husband smiled.
Whitebeard laid out a blanket with some snacks from the party.
“You planned all this”, you asked softly.
“Had some help”, he smiled over at the ship docked nearby.
You smiled at that.
You and Whitebeard talked while you nibbled at some of the snacks. He relaxed against a tree and listened to you talk about the day, the ocean breeze, and the sound of waves off in the distance. When you got quiet, he looked over in your direction. He watched the sunset reflect in your eyes.
“When I first became a pirate”, he said quietly, “I never thought I would have any of this”.
You looked at him curiously.
“Sons. A family….You.”, he gaze softened, “you could have had any life you wanted, but you came with me without hesitation. Thank you for joining me on his journey".
The honesty in his voice made your heart ache. You reached for his hand and squeezed gently.
“Newgate, darling, I did get to live the life I wanted”, you smiled up at him, “I wouldn’t have it any other way".
The sun finally began to slip beneath the horizon. Whitebeard pulled you easily on his lap, one massive arm wrapped securely around your waist. You settled against his chest with a content sigh.
He felt warm and safe. He felt like home. The wind drifted around you gently. You both just sat there at the edge of the cliff in comfortable silence, watching the stars slowly begin to appear across the night sky.
Whitebeard leaned down and gave you a soft kiss on your forehead.
-NSFW at the end, fluff
WC: 540
-A/N: I have made it the flashback during the Wano Arc. I have fallen in love all over again with Whitebeard. This was written with prime Whitebeard in mind.
His nickname for you is ‘treasure’ because you are something as precious and as a rare treasure and he treats you as such
I think acts of service and quality time are his love languages
If he leaves the ship without you, he will always bring back a small trinket. Might be a pretty rock off the beach, hand picked flowers, or a little sweet treat from a local shop
Whitebeard is a total flirt. He will flirt with you then let out that big laugh of his, and you welcome it
When there is a storm, he will take you below deck before the winds turn violent and hold you to make you feel more safe. His large hands and steady heartbeat soothe you
Whitebeard definitely loves quiet moments. When things are calm, you both just sit on the deck admiring the scenery
You have a special hammock set up beside his big chair, during your quiet moments, he will hold your hand in silence. You two just exist together, and that’s enough
Made it a rule that everyone aboard all sit down and eat dinner as a family once a week. A small moment of peace to remind him and his family to stay grateful
He doesn’t really love out loud, not one for grand declarations. He doesn’t need to be, you just know
You are the one who gives him haircuts. The small act of love feels like pampering to him
He’s a very honest man. He would lie to you only to hide a surprise from you
He trusts you to get out of rough situations. He wouldn’t underestimate you, but he never stops worrying either
He would gently scold you if you were too dangerous
Sometimes on a peaceful night, he will take you to to the deck to drink wine together under the stars telling stories about past travels
He has stayed awake some nights and watched how peacefully you sleep next to him
He’ll sometimes look at you like you are something he can’t quite believe is real
He has a habit of touching you just to know you’re there, reminding him what you two have is real
He will sometimes softly watch you while you cook or tend to the ship
He’s a big softy that if the crew wanted to stop somewhere, you could easily convince him with just a smile. The crew teases him, and he pretends to mind
Will literally send men flying if they bother you in any way. You are part of his heart and family, and he always protects what is his
Whitebeard is a very generous lover
He is a foreplay king. He will not do anything until you are dripping wet
He adores going down on you. After some time, he can no longer do things we used to, but he still loves tasting you
Given his massive size, he makes sure he is gentle
Sex with Whitebeard is intense, even during love making
He loves having you ride him, letting you have control
He has a praise kink, he loves to give and receive it
The stamina on his man will leave you a complete mess afterwards
As Whitebeard's widow, you decide to visit the woman who raised Ace before you.
-mentions of character death, grief, loss, silent rage, acceptance, moving on
WC: 2,685
-A/N: I am clearly not over the death of my fictional husband.
The sea had always been a comfort. It was steady, familiar, even in its chaos. But as the island began to appear on the horizon, your stomach twisted with something uncomfortable. You were sailing into someone else’s grief with nothing but a basket and a photo album clutched like a lifeline.
So many things could go wrong.
But still, you pressed on. You had to. Because even if you never met her before, you were both mothers to that boy. Both of you watched him grow up from opposite ends of the world. Her in the trees and dirt, you on saltwater and storm winds. He lived in both places. And now, with nothing left but ash and memory, you needed her to know she wasn’t alone. You needed to know it too.
The ship dropped anchor just past the inlet, and you stepped off with the worn basket in hand. You brought things Ace used to like, dried meat, a few bottles of wine, homemade sweets, and something all too precious, one of Ace’s old shirts. These were meant for someone who had loved him too.
Your boots hit the dirt of Foosha Village and you silently made your way through the markets. The villagers barely glanced your way. You were just another traveler with tired eyes. That was fine. You weren’t here for attention, the less of it the better.
The small market near the harbor buzzed with chatter. You walked up to a small stand where an old woman stood behind, her eyes sharp but kind. She didn’t ask who you were, but her gaze lingered on the Whitebeard tattoo peeking from beneath your sleeve.
“Looking for something?”, she asked gently.
“Something sweet”, you replied as you pointed towards the array of colorful jars.
She handed you a jar of preserves.
“Strawberry. It’s a favorite around here”.
The woman didn’t comment. Just wrapped the jar in cloth and handed it over. As you paid, she gave a small nod, not quite recognition, but understanding. People here seemed to know what grief looked like.
With the basket heavier than before, you turned toward the forest trail and began the slow climb up Mt. Colubo. You followed a narrow path through the woods.Halfway to the cabin, you stopped.
There it was, half swallowed by time and nature, but still standing.
The old treehouse you heard so much about.
You stepped off the trail, drawn toward it like a tide. A makeshift treehouse, still stubbornly hanging on. The ladder planks nailed into the trunk were worn and gray, and a frayed bit of cloth fluttered from the top, catching the breeze like a fading pirate flag.
You thought about what it must have looked like watching Ace and his brothers play in it. They were just boys. Not pirates, or a name on a bounty.
You remembered him telling you about how they used to race each other up the rungs. How they would camp in it for days at a time, pretending to be kings of their own world.
You stepped closer and let your fingers brush against the worn bark, closing your eyes. There was grief, sharp as a blade. But also joy, tangled in the branches, sunk into the wood. He had been happy here.
That mattered.
By the time Dadan’s cabin came into view, you were sweating with your heart slightly racing. Not from the hike, but from uncertainty. You hesitated at the property line. You collected yourself, stepped forward and knocked. The door creaked open to reveal a broad shouldered woman with wild hair and sharp eyes. You had never met the woman who opened the door. Her eyes narrowed instantly, jaw set with suspicion.
“Yeh? What do you want?”
You introduced yourself, told her your name first.
“I was with Whitebeard. I…” your throat tightened, “...I was his wife. I came to bring you something…of Ace’s”.
She stared, unmoving. The name, the tattoo, the expression on your face, it all landed at once. After a long pause, she stepped aside.
“Come in”.
The cabin was humble, and warm. Dadan motioned for you to sit across from her. You sat the basket down on the table, sliding towards her. She slowly started unpacking the contents. Then she pulled out the cloth-wrapped bundle and gently unfolded it.
“I didn’t know if you’d want these”, you said, “But I couldn’t throw them away and I didn’t think it was right to keep it all to myself”.
Dadan’s eyes didn’t leave the items. She lit a cigarette with shaking fingers. Dogra ran up and placed two wine glasses on the table. You didn’t think twice, you grabbed a bottle of wine and poured you two a glass.
The two of you talked for a long while, the wine growing warmer in your glasses and the light shifting across the wooden floor. You told her about Ace’s quiet moments aboard the Moby Dick. How he’d stay up late talking with Marco on the railing, how fiercely he defended his brothers, how he once ate an entire roast meant for twenty men and had the nerve to pretend someone else did it, how he chased you with a sea slug, how he would spend hours napping in the sun claiming he was “recharging his fire”. You laughed when you said it, though your chest ached.
Dadan responded with her own stories, rough edged but fond. How Ace used to sneak out at night, climbing trees just to feel the wind on his face, how he’d drag Luffy into wrestling matches that broke every bit of furniture in the cabin, how he used to sit on the roof and curse Garp to the sky like it was a ritual. The more she talked, the more her voice trembled, like the words had been sitting on her tongue for so long with no one to hear them.
You both laughed. You both cried. And when there was nothing left to say, you just sat in the silence of shared loss and fond memories.
Then the front door creaked open.The air shifted instantly. You felt it before you even turned.
Your heart froze. Your blood turned to ice.
There he was.
Garp was standing in the doorway. His hat in his weathered hands, coat hanging heavy on his frame like it bore the weight of every decision he’d ever made.
Dadan shot to her feet instantly, fists clenched, face already darkening with old rage.
“You’ve got some goddamn nerve showing up again…”, she started.
But you were already rising, slow and deliberate, your whole body trembling. You didn’t shout. You didn’t scream.
You crossed the room in three quiet steps, that’s all it took.
Your palm met his cheek with a sharp, echoing crack that rang louder than a gunshot. The force of it snapped his head to the side, but he didn’t move otherwise. He didn’t block, didn’t flinch.
You stared at him, eyes brimming with fire and tears.
“You.”, you breathed.
One word spat like a curse.
Garp’s throat worked around a dry breath.
“I…” he started, but his voice cracked.
“Don’t.”
The word came out sharp and cold, soaked in venom. Your whole body shook as you forced the next words out.
“Don’t you dare open your mouth to apologize. Not to me.”
Garp’s shoulders sank under the weight of silence. His mouth opened again, but you cut him off before anything more could escape.
A few tears fell in your eyes, but your voice came out low, burning, precise.
“I had buried my husband. The father to our many children. I buried hundreds of our sons, including Ace.”, you stepped closer, jaw tight with restraint, “And you stood there and let it happen. You watched as the world tore my family apart”.
Garp said nothing at first. His face stayed turned away, the red mark blooming across his weathered skin.
“I…cared for him too…I just..”, he finally said, voice rough, quiet almost as a whisper.
Your eyes narrowed.
“Then you should have done something”, you spat, words laced with steel, fists still clenched, “but instead…”, you bit the inside of your cheek until you felt blood. You took a breath to calm yourself.
“I can’t even visit their graves without being escorted by Shanks. Like I’m the threat. Tell me Garp, do you know what it’s like to have to be accompanied by a Yonko just to mourn?”
The cabin was silent. All the bandits just stood and stared, not sure of what to say or do. They glanced over at their boss.
Dadan said nothing. Her eyes had gone glassy, and she clenched her fists. You could see the tremble in her jaw, the old anger rekindling beneath. She’d tried to beat Garp bloody the last time he came here. Marco told you about it. She had screamed until her voice gave out, and when it was done, she collapsed in the dirt, sobbing for the boy she raised and lost. She glared at the stoic so-called hero of the Marines.
“I told myself”, you said after a moment, quieter now but no less sharp, “if I ever saw you, I’d break your ribs. But now that you’re here? It’s worse. You look like you’re mourning, like you still have the right”.
Garp stood there, head bowed, shoulders slack. He just stood there, looking at you with those worn storm swept eyes, haunted by the ghosts of choices he cannot undo. He didn’t defend himself, didn’t ask for understanding.
And none of you offered it. You wiped a tear from your cheek with the back of your sleeve, irritated by your own shaking.
He stayed for a moment longer, like he might say something more. But there was nothing left to be said.
“Go.”, you quietly demanded, “Get off this mountain. Get off this island. And don’t you ever stand before me again”.
He turned and walked back into the forest, the door clicking shut behind him. No one asked him to stay, and no one stopped him from going.
*****
The next morning, you handed Dadan a thick photo album with edges worn, heavy with memories, full of stolen moments from a life spent at sea.
“Ace hated photos”, you said with a tired smile, “But Thatch didn’t”.
Dandan opened it slowly, fingers trembling as she turned the pages. There was Ace asleep on the deck, his mouth slightly open. Ace laughing with Marco, his freckles caught in the golden light. Ace making a rude face at the camera, holding a mug of sake in both hands. At the back of the album, there was a handwritten note.
'For the days we’ll never get back.'
Dadan didn’t speak for a long moment. Her eyes traced each image like they were treasures she thought lost to time. When she looked up, they were red, her mouth pressed into a thin line.
“I didn’t think anyone else remembered him like this”, she whispered.
“Now you’ll never forget”, you reached out, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.
The pain wasn’t gone, but it had changed. It felt more bearable, now that it had been shared.
“There’s a vivre card tucked in the back pocket”, you said softly, “If you ever need me”.
“Thank you”, she whispered.
When it came time to leave, you stepped outside and took one last look at the mountain behind the cabin and smiled. The path back down was quieter than when you’d climbed it. Morning light filtered through the trees in soft golden beams as you listened to the birds sing.The dirt trail wound past the old treehouse again and for a moment, you paused to take it in.
The breeze smelled of pine and salt, and far below, the sea murmured like an old friend calling you home. You didn’t feel lighter, exactly, but the weight in your chest had shifted. No longer crushing, just present. You had said what needed saying. Given what you came to give. And now, with the photo album secure in Dadan’s hands, you walked toward the ship with your head held high and the sun on your back.
The wind started to pick up and hurried your pace. You allowed a smile to come when you saw the ship waiting at the edge of the island for you. Some of the crew stood at the helm, but all of them waited quietly, patiently. They didn’t ask questions. They didn’t need to. The ship rocked gently beneath your feet as you made your way aboard. Marco appeared at your side, his presence calm and steady. He didn’t speak at first. He just rested his hands on the railing, his gaze following yours to the horizon.
“You did what you needed to do, Ma”, he spoke softly.
You stared out at the vast ocean feeling more at ease.
“No, I did what he would have wanted”, you looked up at him and smiled.
The ship pulled away from the small dock, you stood at the railing, the salt wind tugging at your hair. The ocean stretched out before you, vast and endless in its quiet welcome. Behind you, the mountain receded into the mist, the cabin nestled somewhere among its folds.
You caught a glimpse of a familiar white coat, you didn’t look back, but you felt it.
Garp, still watching from the trees, silent and motionless. He didn’t approach, and you didn’t wave. You had said everything you needed to say. And in the stillness of that final moment, you knew Garp understood you now.
You let it settle into your bones that the two women who had loved the same boy as their son in different lifetimes were able to share a glass of wine. Grief had brought you together, tied a thread between strangers and turned them into something like family. It was a strange comfort. A real one.
The sea breeze was warmer today. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you pictured Ace again. Him leaning against the treehouse with a crooked smirk, waving a half-eaten meat skewer at you, laughing like the world had never hurt him. You chose to remember his freckles, his bright eyes, and that stubborn, beautiful fire that never quite went out.
As the island faded into the horizon, you sat at the edge the railing, letting the wind brush against your face like a ghost of old comfort. Your thoughts drifted to him, your captain, your husband.
You wondered if he’d be proud of what you’d done, or if he’d shake his head with that slow, knowing smile of his. Maybe he was watching from somewhere beyond the sea, or maybe he was too busy keeping an eye on all the sons you’d both lost. The thought brought some relief.
You closed your eyes, and in the hush between waves, a memory surfaced. One of those rare, quiet nights on the Moby Dick. It was just the two of you sitting on the edge of the dock, sharing a bottle of wine while the rest of the crew was fast asleep. Their laughter had drifted in the wind, distant but warm. He laughed softly, the kind that rumbled in his chest. He reached over to fill your glass again.
“This….is peace. I wish nights like this could last forever”, Whitebeard had told you that night under the stars.
You hadn’t known then how rare those moments would be. Now, as the ship carried you back into open waters, you held that moment close and whispered into the breeze.
“I hope you find peace”, you whispered.
You took one last deep breath. Then, slowly, you let it go. You felt a cool breeze across your face, while listening to the waves. You smiled because that’s where they lived now. In the wind, in the waves, in every piece of the world they left behind.
You let the sea take the last of your silence. You had mourned. You had remembered. And now, you had to keep sailing forward.
